


Anxiety

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Love, Mental Health Issues, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:47:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27517855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It’s all too much at times.
Kudos: 1
Collections: anonymous





	Anxiety

All day the walls have been closing in. Everything is too much for me alone to take, and every second I feel closer to breaking. But I’m at work. I can’t break apart at work. I already had that minor panic attack in the bathroom and two of my coworkers who I thought were my friends just walked away even when they could see me. They didn’t stop or ask me if I was okay, they just walked by as if I weren’t there. That was when I realized that I’d never really make friends here. That all I have to do is work enough to support myself and my dreams, and at least I don’t have to worry about being attached to a place that has no loyalty to me. 

  
I grip the table next to my stool to remind myself I’m still at work. I’m not safe yet. But every time I blink or open my mouth or hear the voices of the coworkers and the customers I have to swallow the tears back. I don’t know what time it is. I know it’s close to me leaving, but time feels like jello-suspended and shaky.

  
“Hey, ready to-hey, you okay?” Looking up, I see my person. My favorite person, and they’re here. They did say they would be coming in to visit me at work today. Right now I’m half glad they’re here but also half-dreadful they’re here, because they _know_. They always do. I’m so scared that they’re seeing me, like this. They have before but it still doesn’t- 

Hands rest on my shoulders and I see their eyes full of worry and kindness. “It’s time for you to get off,” they remind me gently. 

“Ri-ri-right,” I say barely able to speak. When I get like this it gets harder for me to talk. 

“It’s okay, get your things, I’ll be right here,” they assure me. I just nod and rush to grab my stuff from my locker. Luckily nobody is in the locker room and I don’t have to speak outside of what’s necessary. I get my stuff and hurry out to where my love is waiting for me. Wordlessly they take my stuff and wrap their free arm around my shoulders, guiding me out to the car. Opening the passenger door, they help me inside and place my stuff at my feet before going to the driver’s side and getting in. “Home?” They just ask, and I just nod back before wrapping my arms around myself, rubbing my arms up and down.

 _Hold on just a little bit longer,_ I think as I rub my arms, fighting back tears. _You’re almost home. Please just hold on a little longer._

”Almost home,” my love assures me, resting a hand on my thigh, “almost there.” I just nod again and look out the window, listening to the faint music on the radio and focusing as best as I can on my love’s warm, gentle hand on my leg.

A couple of minutes later we’re home. I grab my stuff and I head inside, tiredly holding the door open for them, and they smile warmly and thank me. No need to. 

“Go get your pajamas on and I’ll join you in a second, okay?” They say, taking my stuff out of my arms and gently pushing me in the direction of the bedroom. I nod, unwilling to speak and I go to the bedroom. There they are, my jammies, which I just threw on the bed with the intention of returning into them after work, which is what I’m gonna do now. Taking the waist of my jeans I pull them down, but I freeze. I fall to the bed and the dam breaks and I’m crying hard. I just cry.

”Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” my love suddenly comes into my tearfully blurred view. They tenderly get me out of my day clothes, and into my jammies. Once I’m in my jammies, they tuck me into bed and they hurry to the other side, getting into bed. Once they do I cling to them, holding them tight, my fingers gripping their shirt tightly.

”It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” they whisper, stroking my hair, gently untangling any knots or tangles.

”I’m so-sorry I’m like this,” I gasp out, crying hard, “I’m so sorry.”

”Don’t apologize,” they say, kissing the top of my head. “I love you. Just the way you are. It’s okay. I’m here for you. I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.”

I hold out my pinky and they hook their pinky in mine. “Promise? Promise? I love you so much. You’re my favorite person. Please don’t leave me.” 

“Never.” They promise.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes this is me just writing about my terrible awful no good loneliness. My often debilitating mental illnesses. It’s just me pretending there’s someone who loves me just as much as I love them and that I’m not a burden to them and they won’t let me go no matter what. Just for one minute let me pretend this is real.  
> (This can be anyone you want it to be. Just as long as it’s someone you love.)


End file.
